Kirtyhoo

My beautiful friend Isaiah continues to battle for his life. He’s only 11 years old and for the past two years, he’s been fighting AML Leukemia. This past Thanksgiving, he underwent a bone marrow transplant in Seattle. At first, all signs looked great. Isaiah bounced back from the transplant and his blood levels were improving. But as I’ve learned with this ugly disease — one day the tests are great and the next, you’re told to anticipate the worst.

Izzy’s transplant was unsuccessful and the leukemia has returned for the fourth time — and probably final time. Last night, I received a text from his parents explaining that Isaiah had a fever, that they were headed to the hospital — and to pray against infection and that he would be able to stay at home vs. the hospital. My heart is breaking and I’m helpless to watch this Spongebob-loving, sweet boy deal with this crap. To watch his dad and stepmom desperately hold on to hope of a miracle as they’re forced to have discussions with physicians now about ambulatory care in case Isaiah becomes unresponsive. How do you do this? I can’t. I’m not ready for this. I’m still looking for that miracle.

For updates on Isaiah and to learn more about AML, check out: http://www.overcomeaml.org/

So, I always seem to have a loooong list of self-improvement goals that I’m working toward. Get in shape is always on there. And, with the big 4-0 coming up this year, I have visions of being in the best shape of my life. Seriously. I dream of sporting a bikini (and I’m not talking about one of those with a skirt attached to the bottom!) and walking the full length of the dock without having to strategically drape a beach towel around my waist.  

So what am I doing about it? I guess I’m just trying to find the right motivation. I mean, I’m a dedicated follower of The Biggest Loser and basically worship the ground my BTT (Best TV Trainer) Jillian Michaels works out on. And I’m completely in awe of the 350 pound contestants that lose 100 pounds overnight and can turn down a plate of Ding Dongs – just not inspired enough to get up off the couch and walk farther than the kitchen. See why this topic is ALWAYS on my list? 

The other thing I’m working on is being nice. I’d like to think that I’m generally a nice person, but there are times when it’s really f*#%ing hard to be nice. Like when I’m driving down a four-lane road and stuck behind cars in each lane that are going 45 in a 55 mph zone. I can’t decide if these morons are unable to read speed limit signs or if they’re intentionally trapping me – forcing me to drive slower and pissing me off. Or like the sweet gal at Hollywood Video that other day. I set two movies and fudge bar (not mine – it was for Kelsey. Really!) on the counter. The gal takes the movies, rings me up and then says, “Oh. Did you also want the fudge bar?” No, you freaking idiot. I like to take things from all over your store and arrange them here on your counter – just to entertain myself while I’m waiting for you to figure how to use the freaking computer. Trying to be nice – but this is usually where I freak out. And my kids know what comes next. It’s embarrassing. But I’ve noticed that they’ve started to intervene. Kelsey jumped right in with, “Yes. We would like the fudge bar. Thank you.” as she pushes me towards the door.  Tyler does the same thing, “It’s ok, mom. Calm down.”  

But last week, I attended a presentation called “Rachel’s Challenge.” (http://www.ktvb.com/ktvb/youth/) It’s part of a nation-wide speaking tour that challenges students and adults to “start a chain reaction of kindness and compassion.” You see, Rachel is Rachel Joy Scott – the first student killed in the Columbine shootings on April 20, 1999. And after her death, her parents found an English essay that she had written that outlined her code for life. In her essay, she explained that “we can start a chain reaction with one simple act of kindness.”

Rachel’s father poured out his daughter’s message of hope and compassion for others. His first request – look for the best in others. So this has been my task for the week. Before getting upset or thinking the worst, I’ve tried to step back and respond in a more compassionate manner. Now I haven’t been 100% successful (and sometimes it’s challenging to find the best when dealing with a complete arrogant asshole) – but just one step at a time. One person can make a change – and change the world. 

Before her death, Rachel touched hundreds of lives – stood up for kids being picked on in school and helped complete strangers on the street. Since her death, this young girl has changed millions of lives – including mine and I look forward to paying it forward. You see, being nice is nice. 

Upon learning that his beloved ho-bag Daisy is still living with her ex-boyfriend, Rock of Love bad boy Brett Michaels explained, “It hit me right in the nards.”

Laughing hysterically, Kelsey said, “Nards. Who says nards?”

Tyler replied, “Dad does.”

Ok, so no fine china on the Stanaway dinner table — but we did actually sit down and eat together like a real family. All four of us around a table with all the fixin’s –mashed potatoes and gravy, BBQ pork ribs (sorry, mom. No traditional Easter ham here), rolls, asparagus and other odds and ends. Wes said grace and we thanked Jesus for all of our friends and family out there that love us no matter what.

Then, we start passing the food around like normal families when Tyler decides that he can’t chew without background music.

“How ’bout Juno?” Tyler said more like a statement than a question.

“How ’bout we just talk,” I said.

“Boring. I really need some background music,” he said as he proceeds to get up and walk to his bedroom. I give Wes the eye (the what the *%&#()&#* is that all about look) and add more gravy to my taters. Here comes Tyler back with his iPod.

“You’re not listening to that at the dinner table,” I said with my 1950’s June Cleaver accent.

“I’ll just have in one ear. Come on. I really need some background music,” he claimed in his best you’re all such a bunch of morons voice.

“Ok, then how ’bout this for background noise?” So I do the natural thing and cut into a little K C and Sunshine Band, “Doo do do, do dooo do do. Celebrate good times. Come on. It’s a celebration. Celebrate good times. Come on. Yeah. Cele….”

“Now see what you did,” Wes said. “You had to get her started.”

And then the usual commentary from Kelsey, “Mom, you’re such a dork.”

“Oh, a little too much action for dinner?” I asked. “Well, then. How about…”

“Mom!” Tyler and Kelsey chime in unison.

“Ok. So then let’s talk.” I said while thinking that I have the most brilliant parenting skills in the world. Thank you very much!

Kelsey’s turn. “So you know how we’ve been reading Romeo & Juliet in class?”

“Oh, yeah.” I said. “How’s that going? Did you finish?”

“The kids in my class are just SOOO immature,” she said — with a heavy stress on SOOO. “You can tell the kids that haven’t had sex ed.”

“What?” said Wes, trying not to laugh and spit out a mouth of mashed potatoes.

Kelsey continued. “Yeah, everytime someone says something like bosom, tit or buttocks, they start giggling.”

“Well, maybe they just not comfortable hearing those words,” I said.

“Yeah, maybe they’re families say ‘boobies and ass’,” Wes said. (ha! nice one, Wes. You said booby and ass while we’re eating Easter dinner)

And Kelsey follows in her infinite wisdom, “Do you think they say penis at their house or pee pee?”

Thank you, Jesus, for the blessing of this meal. Amen.

Thank goodness! The Idaho Governor’s Council on Adolescent Pregancy Prevention (GCAPP) has launched a new campaign to help reduce STDs among teens. Apparently, 1 in 4 slutty Idaho teens have an STD. Teens are sure to change their ways with GCAPP’s brilliant campaign theme – Don’t Be ConDUM.

Overhead this in a bathroom stall at the MGM Grand today.

 ”Ok, honey. Gotta go. I gotta get off the toilet. Love you.”

If the great State of Nevada every bans cell phones when driving, they should also include “while peeing.”

Aaah, Sunday morning. I love to get up early on Sunday, make coffee and enjoy the quiet before the house begins to wake and stress takes over. But this morning, is different. I’m on a mission—a quest if you will. Dog hair is taking over my life.

I can’t take it anymore. It’s coming from our four-year old, Beasley. He’s a mix between a Beagle and Basset. So cute. But so hairy. It’s everywhere. The floor, our furniture, in the car, on our clothes. It’s like a scene from a Hitchcock flick. At first, it’s subtle. You see a hair, reach for the cordless vac and presto. It’s gone. Then, there’s another. And then ten. You dust daily but they’re everywhere. Everywhere you turn. There’s no hiding from THE HAIR. They’re advancing, multiplying. You can run, but they’re onto to you. Watching and waiting. And one day, you rip back the shower curtain and it’s there. On your towel and you scream.

So what do I do?

I’ve considered sewing Beasley a bodysuit to trap the hair. Like the ones they wear in clean rooms—with a hair bonnet and booties. He’d have to enter and exit through an air tight chamber and alarms would signal loose hair.

We could shave him—but the thought of seeing a naked, overweight hound dog…

Maybe we cover everything in plastic. One sweep of the house with my leaf blower and the hair is swept away. It could work.

Or, maybe I should just embrace the hair. I saw something like this on Project Runway last night. One of the designers, Chris, used actual human hair in his designs. So rather than spending hours daily with a roller brush to remove the hair, I walk proudly through my office with furry trouser pants. Our teenagers may need a bit more convincing—but if I arrange the hair in the shape of a Hollister or abercrombie logo…

OK, enough! The kids are waking up which means my quiet break is over. And Beasley needs a walk. Maybe if we walk fast enough, we’ll lose some of the hair on the way. Nice. It just might work.